Myth-science-colloquium

Group exhibition curated by Plastique Fantastique. Contributors include Plastique Fantastique, Tai Shani, Benedict Drew, Oreet Ashery, Tom Clarke, Mark Jackson, and AAS.

世論という神話―望むのは「死刑」ですか？’ (Public opinion myth: is ‘death’ what we really want?)

This paper summarises Mai Sato's recent report on public attitudes to the death penalty in Japan.

The social life of ruins: sites of memory and the politics of a Zimbabwean periphery

This article explores conflicts over a series of ruins located within Zimbabwe's flagship National Park. The relics have long been regarded as sacred places by local African communities evicted from their vicinity, and have come to be seen as their ethnic heritage. Local intellectuals' promotion of this heritage was an important aspect of a defensive mobilization of cultural difference on the part of a marginalized minority group. I explore both indigenous and colonial ideas about the ruins, the different social movements with which they have been associated and the changing social life they have given the stone relics. Although African and European ideas sometimes came into violent confrontation - as in the context of colonial era evictions - there were also mutual influences in emergent ideas about tribe, heritage and history. The article engages with Pierre Nora's notion of 'sites of memory', which has usefully drawn attention to the way in which ideas of the past are rooted and reproduced in representations of particular places. But it criticizes Nora's tendency to romanticize pre-modern 'memory', suppress narrative and depoliticize traditional connections with the past. Thus, the article highlights the historicity of traditional means of relating to the past, highlighting the often bitter and divisive politics of traditional ritual, myth, kinship, descent and 'being first'. It also emphasizes the entanglement of modern and traditional ideas, inadequately captured by Nora's implied opposition between history and memory. (c) 2005 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved.

The dangers of hanging baskets: 'Regulatory myths' and media representations of health and safety regulation

The successful enforcement of health and safety regulation is reliant upon the ability of regulatory agencies to demonstrate the legitimacy of the system of regulatory controls. While 'big cases' are central to this process, there are also significant legitimatory implications associated with 'minor' cases, including media-reported tales of pettiness and heavy-handedness in the interpretation and enforcement of the law. The popular media regularly report stories of 'regulatory unreasonableness', and they can pass quickly into mainstream public knowledge. A story's appeal becomes more important than its factual veracity; they are a form of 'regulatory myth'. This paper discusses the implications of regulatory myths for health and safety regulators, and analyses their challenges for regulators, paying particular attention to the Health and Safety Executive (HSE) which has made concerted efforts to address regulatory myths attaching to its activities. It will be shown that such stories constitute sustained normative challenges to the legitimacy of the regulator, and political challenges to the burgeoning regulatory state, because they reflect some of the key concerns of late-modern society.

Medusa, Antaeus, and Caesar Libycus

Although it is well known that Lucan’s Libya is a wild and threatening place, its threat is not restricted to indigenous people, places and things, such as Hannibal, Cleopatra, the Syrtes, or the desert with its catalogue of horrifying snakes. He also associates Libya with anti-Republican Romans, above all Julius Caesar, who endangers the Republic with his excessive, animalistic energy and resembles the continent where he is trapped in the final book. Although the gods as characters are removed from the world of the Bellum Civile, Lucan allows supernatural traces to linger in particular locations such as the Gallic grove in Book 3 or Thessaly in Book 6. Libya is by far the greatest of these reservoirs of frightening myth and fantasy, which do violence to the historical credibility of the narrative, just as Libya itself is presented as the origin or conduit of a number of historical characters who assault Italy and Europe. Lucan’s two mythic narratives (Antaeus in Book 4 and Medusa in Book 9) are essential parts of the hostile Libyan landscape, but in very different ways. The male Antaeus, associated with lions, is connected with a region of solid rock where he was destroyed. The female Medusa, associated with snakes, is connected with a region of shifting sands where she left a deadly, everlasting legacy. To complicate matters further, even though Medusa’s snakes represent the annihilation of the Republican self, the logic of the narrative is undermined and there is even a sympathetic subtext. As part of Libya’s historical and mythical legacy, these stories reveal that for Lucan, historical epic is linked with Republicanism, but mythical epic is in the service of dictatorship.

Phylloxera and the grapevine: a sense of common purpose?

The purpose of life is its continuation: survival is the reason things live. Here we explore this 'basic' of biology, by reference to the extraordinary life-cycle of the aphid-like pest phylloxera, and the complexity of its relationship with its host the grapevine. The effort and ingenuity that phylloxera employs to continue itself leads to a doubt that survival alone is sufficient reason. It has frequently been suggested that the reduction of life to a catalogue of facts (by science) creates this doubt, because it robs existence of its essence (which is something other than its mechanics). The part that science is said to steal is what Robert Pirsig calls Quality-the harmonious balance of things. Pirsig seems to imply that this is something inherent in things-and independent from us. A more mundane explanation is that the difference between facts and the complete reality is us-the tendency of mind to connect freely between different kinds of information. This possibility is briefly illustrated here by a myth based on the facts of phylloxera.

Learning across business sectors: Knowledge sharing between aerospace and construction

This report addresses the extent that managerial practices can be shared between the aerospace and construction sectors. Current recipes for learning from other industries tend to be oversimplistic and often fail to recognise the embedded and contextual nature of managerial knowledge. Knowledge sharing between business sectors is best understood as an essential source of innovation. The process of comparison challenges assumptions and better equips managers to cope with future change. Comparisons between the aerospace and construction sectors are especially useful because they are so different. The two sectors differ hugely in terms of their institutional context, structure and technological intensity. The aerospace sector has experienced extensive consolidation and is dominated by a small number of global companies. Aerospace companies operate within complex networks of global interdependency such that collaborative working is a commercial imperative. In contrast, the construction sector remains highly fragmented and is characterised by a continued reliance on small firms. The vast majority of construction firms compete within localised markets that are too often characterised by opportunistic behaviour. Comparing construction to aerospace highlights the unique characteristics of both sectors and helps explain how managerial practices are mediated by context. Detailed comparisons between the two sectors are made in a range of areas and guidance is provided for the implementation of knowledge sharing strategies within and across organisations. The commonly accepted notion of ‘best practice’ is exposed as a myth. Indeed, universal models of best practice can be detrimental to performance by deflecting from the need to adapt continuously to changing circumstances. Competitiveness in the construction sector too often rests on efficiency in managing contracts, with a particular emphasis on the allocation of risk. Innovation in construction tends to be problem-driven and is rarely shared from project to project. In aerospace, the dominant model of competitiveness means that firms have little choice other than to invest in continuous innovation, despite difficult trading conditions. Research and development (R&D) expenditure in aerospace continues to rise as a percentage of turnovers. A sustained capacity for innovation within the aerospace sector depends crucially upon stability and continuity of work. In the construction sector, the emergence of the ‘hollowed-out’ firm has undermined the industry’s capacity for innovation. Integrated procurement contexts such as prime contracting in construction potentially provide a more supportive climate for an innovation-based model of competitiveness. However, investment in new ways of working depends upon a shift in thinking not only amongst construction contractors, but also amongst the industry’s major clients.

In the intersection of the angles of a table, there is more truth than in all the tangle of muscles: Futurism as anti-humanist critique

The recent celebrations of the centenary of the publication of the Futurist manifesto led to a renewed discussion of the ideas and artworks of the Italian artists’ group. Jacques Rancière related the Futurist ethos with the modernist project of liberating art from representation. Franco ‘Bifo’ Berardi, in his post-Futurist manifesto, also identified a historical irony at play in the emptying out of Futurism’s promise: a liberated mechanical humanity did indeed materialize, in a global economic system premised on financial servitude to the future via debt. However, these models continue to assess Futurism against an unchallenged humanism, finding it either supporting ideals of freedom and human rights despite itself, or else lacking in these areas. But Futurism is potentially more relevant than ever not in spite of its anti-humanist agenda, precisely because of it. Tom McCarthy annexes not Futurist art but Futurist writing to an emerging object oriented ontology that seeks to challenge the primacy of the human. If Futurism is to be repurposed as a critical concept, it can only do so by countering the humanist myth the liberal subject that underlies the current cultural and political hegemony of neo-liberalism.

‘Modern Man’s Myths: The Influence of Historical Memory on Policy-Making’

Historical events are interpreted by collectivities in ways that are then instrumentalised in policy-making processes. This creates mythical "truths" and "rules of conduct" which in 20th (21st) century Western civilisations are not much different from those of pre-Enlightenment societies.

Chaucer's presence in songes and sonettes

In an elegy to Wyatt published in Tottel’s Miscellany, Surrey claims that Wyatt ‘reft Chaucer the glory of his wit’. This statement, which both lauds and resists Chaucer, is a microcosm of the way Chaucer is treated throughout the Miscellany. In examining the collection’s paradoxical attitude to Chaucer, this essay focuses particularly on the Squire’s Tale, the Franklin’s Tale, Anelida and Arcite, the Legend of Good Women, and several short lyrics. In its interest in courtly love poetry and Petrarch, the Miscellany follows a trajectory in English poetry set by Chaucer. Its courtly verse is saturated with words, phrases, and tropes from his poetry. Rhyme royal, which he introduced into English poetry, is widely used. The Canterbury Tales has been fully assimilated and can be referred to allusively with the same confidence of the audience’s knowledge as is the case when referring to classical myth; in Wyatt’s ‘Myne owne Jhon Poins’, the speaker, disclaiming deceitfulness, says that he cannot ‘say that Pan/ Passeth Appollo in musike manifold:/ Praise syr Topas for a noble tale,/ And scorne the story that the knight tolde’ (lines 48-50). However, Chaucer’s poetry is also downplayed and contested in the Miscellany. ‘Truth’, the only poem of his which appears in the volume, is disingenuously placed in the ‘Uncertain Authors’ section. In addition, some of the most important elements of his work are strongly resisted in the Miscellany, either ignored, dismissed or challenged. These elements include Chaucer’s interest in variety of voice, his sympathetic engagement with women, particularly wronged women, and his interest in female speech and particularly female complaint. The Miscellany, by contrast, is dominated by male-voiced lyrics preoccupied with the pain inflicted on the lover by a lady who is frequently unfeeling, cruel, or faithless. Chaucer’s frequent focus on the cynical seduction and betrayal of female by male is reversed in the Miscellany, and the language and metaphors he uses to express male cruelty (e.g. the word ‘newfangleness’ and images of hooks, nets and traps) are usurped to describe the lady’s cruelty to the suffering lover. On occasion, poems in the Miscellany challenge specific Chaucerian texts; ‘On His Love Named White’ throws down a gauntlet to The Book of the Duchess, while two of Surrey’s poems implicitly take issue with the female falcon’s voice in the Squire’s Tale, giving the deceitful tercelet the opportunity to shout down the falcon’s charges. The essay thus shows that in many respects Tottel’s Miscellany is only superficially Chaucerian, and that it both passively and actively takes issue with Chaucer’s work.

Terminal: a miracle play with popular music from the end of the world

Terminal: A Miracle Play with Popular Music from the End of the World is a film and live performance project exploring the politics of post-apocalyptic fiction. A theatrical staging of a morality play for end times and future folk music, it recasts eschatology, as a foundational myth for a future society. Post-apocalyptic writing and cinema are grounded in an ethos of survivalism. Invoking Rousseau’s state of nature, or time before government, these fictions propose violent scenarios in which nuclear holocaust, environmental catastrophe and other disasters generate an individualistic politics of pure pragmatism, negating the possibility of democratic deliberation. Terminal narrates this familiar scenario, but at the same time questions its validity. The film, shot on black and white VHS at Kurt Schwitters’ Merzbarn in Cumbria, dramatises a series of conversations between future-historical archetypes about the needs and pressures of the situation in which they find themselves at the end of the world. The performers then gather to play worshipful songs about acid rain, radiation sickness and eating the dog, using a mix of conventional, obscure and makeshift instruments In the tradition of books such as Russell Hoban’s Riddley Walker and Arthur M. Miller Jr.’s A Canticle for Liebowitz, Terminal imagines artistic expression and new folk traditions for a world to come after the apocalypse. If, as Slavoj Žižek would have it, it is easier to imagine the end of the world than to think of the end of capitalism, the project juxtaposes these two endpoints to test out how alternative scenarios might emerge from the collaborative practice of making theatre and music against a setting of social collapse.

Back to the margins in search of the core: "Foreign Land"'s geography of exclusion

The crisis of the national project in the early 1990s, caused by a short-lived but disastrous government, led Brazilian art cinema, for the first time, to look at itself as periphery and re-approach the old colonial center, Portugal. Terra estrangeira/Foreign Land (Walter Salles & Daniela Thomas, Brazil/Portugal, 1995), a film about Brazilian exiles in Portugal, is the best illustration of this perspective shift which provides a new sense of Brazil’s scale and position within a global context. Shot mainly on location in São Paulo, Lisbon and Cape Verde, it promotes the encounter of Lusophone peoples who find a common ground in their marginal situation. Rather than as a former empire, Portugal is defined by its situation at the edge of Europe and by beliefs such as Sebastianism, whose origins go back to the time when the country was dominated by Spain. As a result, notions of “core” or “center” are devolved to the realm of myth. The film’s carefully crafted dialogue combines Brazilian, Portuguese and Creole linguistic peculiarities into a common dialect of exclusion, while language puns trigger visual rhymes which refer back to the Cinema Novo (the Brazilian New Wave) repertoire and restage the imaginary of the discovery turned into unfulfilled utopia. The main characters also acquire historical resonances, as they are depicted as descendants of Iberian conquistadors turned into smugglers of precious stones in the present. Their activities define a circuit of international exchange which resonates with that of globalized cinema, a realm in which Foreign Land, made up of citations and homage to other cinemas, tries to retrieve a sense of belonging.